


hell or highwater

by tciddaemina



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demon Summoning, Demon Trafalgar Law, Gen, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Slash, Summoner Luffy, Trafalgar Law POV, demon POV, eldritch being
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25726348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tciddaemina/pseuds/tciddaemina
Summary: In hindsight, that should have been Law's first clue that something was going to go wrong. What sort of mortal replies to a demonic contract withMm okay?
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy & Trafalgar D. Water Law
Comments: 11
Kudos: 98





	hell or highwater

**Author's Note:**

> Law/Luffy is pre-slash but can be read as platonic, though if I ever write anymore it will probably shift along.

Law doesn't get summoned. 

He made sure of it. As soon as he had the wherewithal to sever all connection with the mortal realm and the insolent fleshbags that live there, he did so, and backed up his attempt by personally seeking out every codice and tome, every warning prophecy and hunter's journal, every scrap of fucking paper that so much as mentioned his name, and eradicating every trace of them from the surface of the earth. 

As far as the mortals are concerned, Law doesn't even exist. There should be no summoning, no salutations, no grossly misinterpreted irritating attempts at worship. Just Law and the endless grinding spheres of Hell, dripping with a void so vast and hungry that even the relentless screeching of the damned can't penetrate it. 

Law has divorced himself from the human realm as completely as is metaphysically possible, has managed to go almost seven centuries now without some human meatsack even speaking his name - which is why he's perhaps, maybe, a _little fucking surprised_ when the summons hits him like a sack of bricks, digging its hooks into him and jerking him through the dizzying space between realms like one might yank a fish from a stream, still writhing on the end of the line. 

Law finds himself shoved unceremoniously into the mortal world, his form shuddering and distorting as its squeezed down to size, forced to adhere to the rigid structural rules of atoms and elements, contorted until it adheres to the mere seventeen spectrums of light and energy present in this mortal cesspit. Law can feel stone walls around him, can feel the way their grainy particles rub up against his own, threatening to dislodged and stick, can feel the foul flotsam soup that these creatures call air already beginning to stick to him, particles permeating through the hazy edges of his form-

And he can feel the living creatures in it, single celled sparks of life all pulsing and churning, respiring and excreting and polluting the atmosphere with their discharge. Can feel the organic matter that hangs suspended amongst the oxygen and hydrogen, the minuscule droplets of water that absorbs all this elemental filth, all this raw chemical excess-

Seven Hells, if anyone ever needed a reason to hate the mortal realm here's one: It's _disgusting._

Law makes an irritated sound and feels the physical structures around him tremble faintly with the force of the vibrations, and draws himself back sharply, convalescing his turbulent energy into something less permeable, solid enough that he can draw a boundary between himself and the putrid swirling filth that surrounds him. Any sort of physical form is constraining, but even that is better than having to deal with all of the ambient pollution trying to soak through his energy.

And this, _this,_ is why he likes Hell - the void, while ravenous, is clean and sterile, the endless flames of Hell's burning spheres enough to cauterize and incinerate any stray organic matter that might dare try to invade it. In Hell, existence occurs purely on a metaphysical level, none of this messy organic affair. 

Which begs the question, what the _fuck_ is he doing here?

It takes Law a moment to find the mortal, to trace the thrumming remnants of carbon dioxide and humidity back to the organic being that lays sprawled on the floor of the cell. Eyes blink open the inky depth of Law's new form, all the better to view the stinking creature, and Law makes a noise of disgust. It's oozing, and quite prolifically at that, oxidizing hemoglobin and plasma leaking all over the stone below it, with more of it continuing to seep from the open ruptures in its flesh. 

It's dying, or whatever these limited organisms like to call it when their decaying meat-forms finally begin to fail. And its not hard to see why. The ruptures tear through large parts of its internal scaffolding, causing it to leak fluid back into its respiratory organs. Law makes an unimpressed noise, glancing around the cell - a prison, go figure - before finally settling on the sloppily drawn summoning circle printed into the stone by the creature's left appendage. Joy, even that is written in its leaking fluid. 

Law tests the bindings and sure enough the summons doesn't let him leave, digging its hooks deeper into him when his energy threatens to begin seeping back towards the infernal spheres. It'll keep him there until the summons has run its course, and that means he needs to interact with the bleeding meatsack. 

Another few eyes blink open, glaring down at the oozing creature, and Law spends a serious second contemplating whether to just kill it. Mortals are weak enough as it is and this one is on the verge of death. It would take so little to unravel it completely, to pull its delicate systems apart until nothing remains but aching, oozing flesh that will cool and begin to rot just as soon as its energy requirements stop being met. It would be easy. All it would take is a thought from Law, a little push. 

Except... the summoning circle isn't one Law recognizes, and for all he knows its casters death may not break it. Dealing with mortals is bad enough, but Law refuses to spend the rest of his days trapped inside this oozing cesspit waiting for the magic in the circle to finally erode and fracture. No, better to deal with the mortal quickly, reap its soul, and then return to Hell. 

Law doesn't bother with verbal communication - it's been so long since he last was forced to communicate with a human that their languages have no doubt changed by now, and anyway, there's a not infinitesimal risk that the sound of his voice might rupture the creature's eardrums. Instead he reaches directly into its mind instead, pressing through the fragile layers of bone and flesh until he minds the sparking network of neurons that cradles its mind. 

_What the fuck do you want?_ Law growls, and dives deeper, dragging his fingers through its surface thoughts when the creature does little more than wheeze at him. It's mind is a tangled, haphazard mess of memory and emotion, all swirling chemical and sparking electrical impulses, and Law shoves aside the first few colourful flashes of memory, looking deeper. Even fragmented, the undercurrent of its conscious thoughts isn't hard to find. 

_-urthurtsithurtsithurtshurtshurtsim-_

_-dyingdyingdyingidontwanttoithurthurtshurts-_

_-ithurts-_

_-helpme_

"A contract." Law says, mouths splitting open to taste the words, and lets the air rattle around his words, the stones of the cell seeming to groan at the sound of his voice. He leans down, letting the dark edges of his form lap up against the walls, spilling over the floor until rows of gleaming teeth hang inches from the meatsack's face. "I can fix the wounds in your mortal flesh, and in exchange upon your death your soul is mine"

A simple contract, as far as these things go, but not a lenient one. After all, the contract doesn't specify when the mortal will die, or that is has to be something other than Law that kills it. The mortal's soul won't be worth all the inconvenience it caused Law by dragging him here, but oh well, he might as well get something out of this whole affair. 

The meatsack's eyes blink hazily, staring up at Law's many mouthed smile, and its chest rises and falls as it draws in a wheezing breath. When it speaks the word is little more than a cough, so mangled by the damage to its respiratory system. "M'kay."

In hindsight, that should have been Law's first clue that something was going to go wrong. What sort of mortal replies to a demonic contract with _Mm okay?_

Law smiles, every staring eye narrowing into a cruel line of pleasure, mouths twisting with an eager sort of malice as he reaches in, pouring his energy into the mortal and feeling the contract click into place. "Agreed."

He doesn't bother being careful with the binding mark, letting it spill freely over the humans skin, the circles of dark script expanding across its torso and up the side of its neck. Not that it matters. The mortal won't be around long enough to even notice. Law sends forth the first probing tendrils of energy, sinking them into the creatures skin, to the areas where it is most wounded, its mortal form the most frail, already sparking the organic systems there to begin repairing themselves, and almost immediately yanks back as he feels something catch and _snag_ , hungrily dragging his energy in. 

Law draws back, trying to cut the flow, but it just redoubles, the constraints of the summons drawing tighter as it locks him in place, siphoning at his energy, fucking _funneling_ it into the meatsack. Law snarls, fighting against it, the hazy surface of his form roiling and rippling, teeth gnashing at the empty air as he tries to throw the binding off, the air growing hot and sharp as Law throws the sheer force of his might against it.

More of his magic is pouring into the human, sucked in hungrily by the summoning circle that links them both. Its wounds are already healing, fleshing sealing over, and yet the magic continues to flow into it, seeping into its fragile form at an alarming rate. Something is creeping back through the bond, the mortal's own energy seeping towards him, and Law takes a physical form out of self defense, trapping the rest of his energy inside him as securely as he knows how, by weaving it into flesh of his own.

The form he creates is haphazard, rushed, but Law can't bring himself to care. His feet hit the ground, claws digging into the stone even as Law yanks the last trailing pieces of himself in. Bone spurs scrape against the ceiling for a second until Law viciously drags them back under his skin, flesh shifting and bones crushing beneath his skin as he drags his body towards something resembling symmetry. The result looks more human than he would like, no doubt influenced by the filth creeping through the binding, but Law can make do.

Law snarls, seizing the human by the throat and slamming it up against the stone wall, his claws carving deep gouges into the stone on either side of its neck as he flexes his fingers. "What _the fuck did you do?"_

The human makes a muffled yelp as Law picked it up, and now it blinks at him, the haze clearing from its eyes as it regains clarity, its mind no longer a fractured mess of pain, made incoherent by blood loss. It blinks at him, looking somewhat stunned, and Law bares his many teeth. Even now he can still feel the summons tugging at him, can feel something at the other end of the bond trying to slide through.

"What have you done?" Law demands, voice hissing between his teeth, the air leaving him in a cold cloud that. He tightens his fingers, watching as the human squirms uncomfortably. "What summoning circle did you use? What is it _doing? Tell me."_

Law lets his fingers curl, digging his claws into the fragile flesh of its throat. Maybe he should just kill it. Maybe he should just snap its neck, let his claws cut through all those layers of delicate skin until everything inside it comes spilling out. That would solve the problem. That would solve it neatly. Law twists his claws, digging them deeper, and waits for the red blood to spill across his hands.

_"Shishishi,_ stop! That tickles!" The mortal gasps, one hand coming up to grab at Law's arm as the mortal squirms. Law snarls, digs his claws in deeper, waiting for the flesh to rupture, for the blood to spill over, but the mortal just laughs, one hand coming up to try and shove Law off as it wriggles. And Law can still see the damage to the stone, the way it tears beneath the force of his claws. His claws are sharp, they're sharper than anything in this stupid filthy world except-

Except -

Except that Law can feel his own magic inside the mortal, can feel it saturating every cell of its organic fucking body, fucking radiating off it, and Law's claws are sharper than anything. Anything except perhaps the force of his own magic, absorbed into the mortal's flesh and now integrating itself with its systems, because that's what Law set it to do when he started the transfer. The self-same force of magic that keeps Law's hide impermeable to attacks now lurks within the mortal's organic flesh, strengthening it, _protecting it._

"Hey, hey," The mortal says, pawing at his arm. "You're a demon right? Wow, you look so cool. How are you doing that with your bones? They keep moving-"

The mortal has done something to him. The summons, the whole fucking contract, it was a trap. The mortal has bound Law to him, found a way to siphon his energy and use it to his own ends. Law tries to draw back, tries to sever the bond, fuck it, even tries to slip back through the veil between worlds, but the binding holds tight. The human has trapped him here, binding him to it, and now _Law can't fucking leave._

Law is going to rend the mortal piece from piece. He's going to slit him open and pry out every nerve one by one while the human is still alive and screaming, and when he's done he's going to take him apart, disassemble his bones and lay them out on the hardpacked earth, along with every line of muscle, every string of sinew. He's going to take the human apart until there's nothing left but fucking _atoms,_ and then he's going to do it all again, and again, and _again._

Law drags his claws up the creatures's front, intent on tearing him open, all hot flesh and blood and steaming innards, and the human screeches, doubling over with laughter and squirming against the grip Law has around it's throat. 

"Stop! Stop! _Shishishi,_ I'm ticklish-" The human gasps, whacking at his arm, and Law makes a noise of pure fury, bones rattling together and black ichor spilling down to the floor with the force of his rage.

Law releases the human abruptly, letting it slump to the floor, and turns, stalking back across the room, his claws leaving deep scratches in the stone floor with every step. The circle. He needs to find the summoning circle. If he can just figure out _how_ the mortal has bound him, he can break it. And Seven fucking Hells, he can still feel the human's energy trying to press through the bond, still fucking reaching for him. What the fuck does it _want?_

The human is making noises behind him, saying something, its lips flapping uselessly. Law ignores it, focusing on the circle, and makes a noise of frustrated disbelief when he finds it. The problem with writing in fucking ooze is that if you ooze some fucking more on it then how the fuck do you know what you're looking at? Half the circle has been swallowed by a pool of blood and the other half so fucking incomprehensible that Law can barely understand what each character is supposed to mean. 

"Hey, what are you doing?" The fleshbag asks, finally picking itself up off the floor and wandering over to join him, coming to a stop beside him. It stands beside Law like it's nothing, unconcerned, arrogant, like Law isn't one of the most powerful demons in existence. As if this frail leash its tied him with will be enough to spare it Law's retribution. 

Law ignores it, staring at the circle, trying to decipher the mangled characters. The circle itself is an odd shape, the half that Law can see almost elliptic, with the runes scattered semi-haphazardly within it. Whatever algorithm the mortal used to calculate its runic constellations isn't one Law has seen before, and he's seen a few of the most powerful summoning circles that humanity has to offer. This one is something new, something unknown and dangerous. Deceptively simple looking too, no doubt calculated to hide its true purpose, keeping it out of the wrong hands. 

_"Shishishi."_ The human says, crouching down next to the blood puddle and giving the summoning circle a little poke. "I can't believe that worked. I really thought I was a goner for a second there. I must be super lucky, _shishishi."_

The mortal is close enough that Law can feel it's breath against his side, all the displaced air that comes barreling towards him every time the human shifts, and he lets his hand fall onto the back of its neck, fingers coming to circle its throat. Maybe if he just squeezes hard enough...

"Ah. Don't! You'll make me laugh again." The human says, ducking away from his hand. Law merely tightens his claws, dragging the human up by its neck until it teeters on the tips of its feet before him, fingers drawn so tight around its throat that it would have broken another human's neck. He barely seems concerned that Law has him by the neck, doesn't seem to mind it at all. 

"I'm going to slit your throat and drown you in your own blood." Law hisses, letting his eyes go dark and hard, a trace of the void slipping through. "Tell me how you made your circle, _now,_ and I might spare you."

"Eh? I don't know that. I just made it." The human says, in a insulting, fucking blatant attempt at playing dumb. Nobody meddles with demons without putting in the time to make sure they're covering their own asses first - not that that saves them. Humans downfall is their pride, thinking that they can control powers from a higher level of existence, thinking that they can stick their hands in the fire and get away without getting burned. 

"Is it a Vesican base array? A Gaussian array? Arrynian? Halberic?" Law presses, claws digging in, for all the fucking good it does him. The air grows cold, the temperature of the air reacting to the sheer force of Law's rage. He gives the mortal a shake for good measure, glaring. "What bindings did you use? _Tell me."_

_What did you use to make it? What are its weaknesses? How do I break it? How do I break_ you?

The mortal gives a helpless shrug, waving one hand. "Eh, I don't know anything about that. I just drew the circle, alright? Cuz I needed some help, and things were getting pretty bad. _Shishishi,_ then you came through! So it must have worked alright." The mortal grins at him, looking far too proud of himself, and Law stares at him for a moment, a feeling of dreadful realization creeping over him. 

Law had thought the mortal was arrogant. He thought he was cocky, sure of himself, so fucking confident, a genius lording it over the demon he'd managed to bind- Law drops the mortal, turning back to the circle with a frantic sort of desperation. He'd thought the sloppiness was a mask, thought that the elliptic nature was a carefully calculated curve, the runes purposefully marred, except-

Except it's not. _That's_ the fucking circle. That messy, shambled, off center smear is exactly what it looks like. Except now that he looks closer he can see that its not even a fucking closed circle, it's a fucking _spiral_ and _who the fuck makes a circle like that?_ It's an abomination. Its the worst summoning circle he's ever seen. It shouldn't even be functional, let alone able to summon a being as powerful as Law, and Law has _no fucking clue_ how it even worked. 

_"Shishishi._ I'm Luffy by the way." The mortal says, and oh Hells, he's not even arrogant is he? He's just a fucking idiot. The one time a human manages to actually summon and bind Law, and it has to be a fucking cretin who does it. How is this possible?

"I'm going to kill you." Law says, slowly, quietly, with such freezing, frigid resolve that it feels like every piece of warmth is sucked from the air. "I'm going to cut open your fucking skull, and I'm going to rend your brain down into so much leaking jelly."

" _Shishishi._ You're a funny guy." The mortal says, and he has the audacity to _smack Law on the shoulder._ Law stares at him blankly. "I've never met a demon before, but you're pretty cool. Hey, what do you say? Wanna join my crew?"

The mortal grins at him expectantly, his hand still resting on Law's fucking shoulder. And Law can still feel the tug of the bond on his magic, trying to siphon it away, can still feel the human's on filthy, organic life force trying to shove itself back through the bond - and its never going to stop, Law realizes, because this isn't a trap, isn't some clever scheme. This is a fucking freak accident and Law is never, _ever,_ going to be able to free himself from it.

"I swear to every fucking Lord in Hell, I'm am going to _fucking kill you-_ " Law snarls, and the human just laughs. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please comment and let me know what you thought :)


End file.
